


giving in before it all goes wrong

by Hieiandshino



Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 14:05:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11337021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hieiandshino/pseuds/Hieiandshino
Summary: Through the cracks, Matt sees.(unrevised work)





	giving in before it all goes wrong

**Author's Note:**

> _The Defenders_ and Marvel (all media types) do not belong to me.
> 
> Title is inspired by "Your heart is a muscle", by Carly Rae Jepsen.
> 
> This is an unrevised work, so I'm sorry for my mistakes.

Matt remembers the colors before he became blind. He remembers the colors better than the face of his father, than the texture of the city. He remembers the blue sky and the yellow paint from the cabs, the grey of the city, the green of the trees, brown dogs and orange cats.

“Tell me about him” Matt whispers to Foggy as they both stare at Danny Rand, missing billionaire, Immortal Iron Fist.

“He's weird.” Foggy says. “Like, he is just a kid, but not really? And he is handsome. Very handsome. Is this some kind of pre-requisite to be a superhero, eh? Hair is really blond, eyes are really blue.”

Yellow is the sun, warm. Blue is the sky, always there.

He smells of incense and sweat. He seems smaller than he really is as he walks around the streets, as he talks to them. Only grows when it is time to fight.

Matt knows this too well.

.

Through the cracks, Matt sees.

Danny is made of smiles and laughter that starts on the lungs before escaping between his teeth. Likes tea, doesn't do very well with coffee, likes sugar and greasy food. He is gluttony and pride.

But he is also anger. An anger he cannot control, screams he lets out to the moon as he fights someone. The guilt over living here and letting his missing land behind to fend for themselves. Danny finds meaning through his fists and his walls are always broken or in cracks because he smashes himself against them as if trying to let someone in, but not being capable of.

He is what Matt is, shown to the world. He does not hide between glasses and poorly made suits.

He is so brave, but this is because he does not know any better.

.

“How do you do it?” Is a question that escapes his lips in the middle of the night. Matt does not know what he is talking about, too distracted by the way Danny’s body moves, its sounds and its chi calm waves before the storm.

The muscle moves, cuts the wind in such a delicate way that Matt wonders how this feather end up mixed with the Luke's concrete, Jessica's sharp steel, Matt's wood stake ( _in form of a cross_ ).

“I beg your pardon?” Matt says.

“How can you be so calm?”

“I'm not calm”.

“You are. You have control. You—” Danny stops talking, stops moving “You're not like me.”

 _No one's like you_ , Matt thinks, helplessly. It's so ridiculous and corny. But he understands what Danny means.

“You were taught to not feel anything. To not feel anger or pity or sadness. But you didn't accept it. You didn't move on from your family's death.”

“Did you? Move on, I mean?” Danny asks, suddenly quiet.

“Nobody asked me to.” He smiles sadly. “Rage is a very good motivation. But I think that we do this because we didn't move on at all”.

“That's selfish. Isn't that supposed to be something super heroes are against it?”

“We're not superheroes, Danny”.

_We never were._

_._

It's the same song. It blasts from his iPhone, the next generation not even released to the public, again and again. Rap music, nineties music, means too much and not enough.

Matt focuses on the rapping than Jessica's new bullshit, and it mixes with Danny's heartbeat. A different song that Matt could play on the piano, on the violin, on the harp, on every musical instrument, no practice needed. It would always sound beautiful to his ears.

Danny's eyelashes flutter open, he can hear them moving. Matt is drowning on Danny's senses.

He hears him smile, the muscles moving underneath his skin.

“What are you starting at me for?”

Matt smiles too.

.

Danny sits with Jessica and Matt is not jealous.

They sit and they don't talk. They write.

He is the subject.

Luke drinks his coffee and rambles something about coffee and chocolate of a different kind. Mentions Claire too much.

Danny laughs like a little girl discovering that her best friend kissed a boy for the first time. Giggles. Jessica slaps him on his back. Camaraderie.

“Just ask him out.” Luke says, suddenly, and Matt takes time to understand he is talking to him. About Danny.

“What?”

“Ask his white ass out.” Luke says again, as if it were simple.

“No!” Matt answers, fast. Indignant. He can feel himself blush.

“Why not?”

Why not indeed.

.

Electricity dances above them. Christmas. Claire Temple finds love with Coleen Wing. Luke dances around Jessica who pretends she doesn't  _care_. Karen kisses Foggy, still crying because of the engagement ring — a feather pencil, very antique and expensive, but not as much as a diamond ring.

And Danny laughs next to him, drink on his hand, smiling and light for the first time in what seems like years.

They fought. They won. Together.

Electricity dances above them. He can hear its sound as it moves inside the cables. As it lights the lamps, the thousand lamps.

“Can you see them?”

“Huh?”

Danny giggles and drinks some more. “The lights. You were looking up.”

“Oh. No. I can feel them. Hear them. The electricity”.

“And then you remember them from when you were a kid?”

Matt does not answer. It's enough of a response.

“Sorry, man, I thought—”

“I remember the colors, but not the texture or forms.”

Danny stays silent for a few seconds before he starts describing everything he sees. He has no vocabulary, keeps making these makes weird comparisons, tells Mat stories from K’un Lun, all at the same time.

How things were. The green of the grass, the gold sunsets, the whiteness of the snow. So many things. Too many things.

Matt wants to hear him forever. Wants to be able to see what he sees, feel what he feels. Matt is blind, but Danny is seeing many things for the first time in years. It's a rush that makes Matt light headed enough to press Danny against himself and kiss him on the lips.

It's not as delicate as he wanted. It is harsh, impulsive, a fevered dream that comes true. Danny opens his mouth, let's Matt in, holds his head on his hands.

His heartbeat becomes a mess. Different from when he loses control — when this happens it is so fast and so loud. Almost a bomb; it could kill him — and better. Like music. The exposition on classical music, from the sonata form.

When they break away, there is no sound. Danny nuzzles his nose with his own, eskimo kisses.

Matt laughs.

.

The water falls to the ground, crashes into his body. Danny dances, stretches, does what he does every morning. The rain falls against his body, damps the skin and the fabric as he moves on the rooftop, feet so light Matt can barely listen to because of the sound of the rain.

Matt cooks, tries to come back to his body, stop listening to Danny, but he can't. It fascinates him, seduces him, focuses him on only one thing, on only one person.

What love is supposed to be for someone like him.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wrote this. On my cell phone. Decided to post immediately. Because of this, I beg for mercy because of the mistakes of any kind. As soon as my life becomes easier I will revise it and even add other things (possibly. It's known to happen)!
> 
>  **Update (07/31)**  
>  Okay, I just revised and added some things. Nothing that changes the story, only completes it. Thank you for all the great comments and the kudos <3


End file.
